Beneath the Bleeding Moon
by Itsygo
Summary: Marduke X Rochelle


**Disclaimer: The characters belong to Marianne Curley, but the perversion is all mine.**

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He had given her hope, a purpose, the will to live. He had taken her when she was shuddering in fear, and whispered, breathing into her ear from his cracked, ugly mouth, of the powers within her, powers that he could awaken. He had told her he would turn the crying, trembling child into a strong, beautiful woman.

And he had done so.

He had trained her, taught her, showed her how to master her powers, took her to a world of magic and wealth she could only dream of. With him, the past was in her command. And she obeyed, hungry for any minute bit of authority after living through a childhood of fright and abuse. When she wasn't with him, the voices resurfaced in her head, the screaming and the thirsty snapping of the belt brought back to life. He became like a drug to her, his fatherly voice, his praise of her talents a feverish need she would do anything to fulfill.

And she did, through lies and deception, espionage, poison, betrayal. She fulfilled it even when it meant digging her own grave. Her loyalty to him was absolute, bordering on insanity.

So when his large, rough fingers paused on the collar of her blouse, pinching the white plastic button three times smaller than his nails, she surrendered herself to him in total, silent submission.

Revulsion pressed at her throat, and she swallowed as she tried to stop herself from vomiting. She kept her eyes fixed on a spot on his thigh, forcing herself to block out the sight of the huge muscle flexing beneath the fabric. It was almost twice the width of her own leg, and she could only guess at how many times it was stronger. Five? Ten? In any case, it was useless fighting against him. If anything, it would only make her situation worse, the pain unbearable. She tried not to think of the size of his cock. He was sure to stretch her to her limits, maybe even tear her.

He pulled at the hem of her neckline, releasing the button from the hole, exposing a bit of soft, creamy flesh. Her pale skin curved over her collarbone, looking enticingly darker in the shadows of the stark white cotton. With a soft sigh, he traveled down to the next button, and the next, all the way down until her shirt was open, revealing her small, flat stomach.

She shivered, in cold and disgust. His nail slid teasingly to top of her small white breast, encased in its cheap bra. Her palms grew clammy. She could no longer look at his thigh; the spot was too close to the enormous, growing bulge in front of her. If she had felt any hope that he might relinquish her, that hope was now gone.

His giant hands rubbed their way to her gelid back, unhooking the narrow strap with ease. Her breasts did not sink, though. They remained firm and jutting, her nipples stiffened by the chill and her nervousness. He touched the left one with the coarse tip of his finger, and she hardened against his skin, her heart beginning to palpitate. Despite her terror and her aversion, she felt herself become excited, her nerves itching for his touch. Between her legs pooled a warm liquid, tickling the swollen lips that pulsed, faster and faster. She held her breath, mortified by her sudden desire, by the realization that she wanted that huge, bestial hand to glide down her sweating torso to her wet, throbbing lips, and part them so he could enter her, as painful as that final enterprise might be.

He pushed her onto the couch, bending over her. His mouth pressed against hers, and she recoiled, expecting a stench of rotting food or at least alcohol. Sure enough, she tasted liquor on his breath, and his tongue felt like a filthy gargantuan worm, but he was, despite all appearances, a surprisingly masterful kisser, galvanizing her nerves in ways she never thought possible. Libido finally overriding all feelings of repulsion, she threw her head back, opening her lips as wide as they could stretch to accommodate his huge wet mouth.

His hands meanwhile pulled at her pants, easing the elastic waistband over her narrow hips. He noticed the wetness between her legs immediately and playfully pushed a finger into the warm moist fabric, letting her swallow the tip. She moaned against his teeth, hips bucking to push him deeper inside. He retracted, undressing her completely, running his palms down the smooth lithe legs that spread imploringly at his touch.

Her impatience amused him, but he was not one to tantalize. Pushing his clothes down hastily, he thrust into her, the huge head stretching the tight ring of flesh painfully. She cried out, his tongue lodged deep in her mouth, clenching her muscles around him in a desperate, clumsy attempt to loosen them. Aware of her pain, he entered her fully and remained there, motionless, hoping that this way she would get used to his girth more quickly.

Her chest heaved underneath him as she tried to relax. He was too big, as hard and smooth as a rock, and despite all the discomfort, deliciously warm. She could get used to it; she just needed some time, and some lubrication. Her fingers flexed, moving across her stomach, but he beat her to it. He found her swollen clitoris with ease, and pulled back the hood, rolling his middle finger over the little nub. She sighed, biting on his lip. Finally, when he felt her moisture around his cock, he moved again, stabbing into her until he came, his seed exploding inside of her.

Sticky and sore, she looked at him expectantly. He snorted, but decided to do her that favor anyway. As his mouth left hers, sliding down to her avid little cunt, she smiled a devilish smile and closed her green eyes.


End file.
